


Andabata

by Menya_Savut



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Depression, Disability, Disabled Character, Friendship, Gen, Minor Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Post-The Heroes of Olympus, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26706229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menya_Savut/pseuds/Menya_Savut
Summary: Clarisse, and the night of the longest day of the year.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase & Clarisse La Rue, Percy Jackson & Clarisse La Rue
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	Andabata

**Author's Note:**

> **TRIGGER WARNING:** conversations that are...suicide-adjacent, i suppose is the way to describe it. please be aware.

It was the evening of the Summer Solstice, and the sun was just beginning to set on Camp Half-Blood. Clarisse sat at the end of the Ares table in the dining pavilion and ate in silence, listening to the conversations of the other campers around her. They were talking about the Capture the Flag game they’d played before dinner. Clarisse hadn’t participated; she’d made sure to arrive at camp late. Her siblings’ energy and excitement washed over her, seeming far-removed and foreign. 

Clarisse glared down at her plate. Brisket, slices of bread, cheese, grapes and strawberries. Their amorphous shapes looked like mere shadows, melding together in the dim light of the central fire and the surrounding torches. She’d picked listlessly at her dinner as the night wore on. Her siblings continued talking animatedly, their gesticulations and facial expressions lost in the dark. And then Clarisse startled; a dryad had appeared at her right elbow to take her half-empty plate away. 

Dinner was ending. Clarisse heard the clatter of the others standing from the picnic table. Clarisse hurriedly moved to stand too, and feverishly raked her eyes over the darkness past the dining hall, searching for the little droplet of light that was the bonfire. But by the time she’d spotted it the other campers had already gone, disappeared into the night. She was alone. She had no one to follow. 

The aching tightness rose up in her throat. They had left her. They knew, and they had left her. Clarisse wrapped her arms around herself and tried to concentrate past the stinging in her eyes. The picnic tables were arranged in a grid pattern. The dining pavilion was on a raised platform, but the edge was marked by the columns holding up the roof, and the columns were marked by the torches mounted on them. As long as she followed the line of the picnic tables toward a column and searched for the edge of the platform with the soles of her feet once she got there, she could step safely down into the grass and then she’d just have to travel down the hill toward the light of the bonfire and find an unoccupied log in the dark at the back–

“Clarisse,” said a voice in front of her. A palm landed on her forearm. “It’s me. It’s Percy.” 

Clarisse opened her mouth to speak for the first time that night, but her voice was marred by tears. “Fuck off,” she rasped. 

“Do you want to go down to the bonfire?” Percy asked. His voice was even, steady. She couldn’t see him. 

Clarisse didn’t answer. She forcibly choked back a sob. 

Percy must have been staring at her. He could probably see everything. “Come on,” he said finally. “Hand on my shoulder…” 

“Where are you taking me?” Clarisse retorted, as Percy’s fingers curled around her wrist and lifted her hand to rest on his shoulder from behind. The aggression in her voice was ruined by its shakiness. 

“Somewhere private,” Percy said. He started walking, and Clarisse moved along with him. 

Somewhere private. Because she was losing control. And she couldn’t even manage to hide without help. Percy maneuvered them down the central aisle of the tables, heading not toward the bonfire but in the opposite direction toward the cabins. 

“Step down,” Percy said. They’d reached the edge of the pavilion. Clarisse felt Percy’s body sink as he stepped onto the grass. She felt around with her foot until she found the edge of the platform, and she stepped down. 

They continued on. There were no more fires, no other light sources in this part of camp. Clarisse could make out little pinpricks of light here and there that might have been lights inside buildings, but she couldn’t really tell and they were of no use to her anyway. The sounds of the rest of the campers faded away behind them. She followed the movement of Percy’s body. 

They’d reached their destination. Clarisse felt the tensing of Percy’s shoulder as he opened a door, and then brightness met her eyes. 

The infirmary. Uncluttered and organized, and well-lit by the bright fluorescent lights on the ceiling. She could see now. Clarisse let go of Percy’s shoulder and followed him through the empty waiting area. They came to an exam room and Percy flicked on the lights. They went inside and Percy shut the door. 

Clarisse took in the exam table, the desk and stool, a sink, implements hanging from the wall. Even with all the lights on, everything still looked dull and washed out. Clarisse turned her back to Percy and tried to stem the flow of her tears. Percy stood quietly behind her. 

Fate was a fucking bitch. Wasn’t it just so ironic that the thing taking Clarisse’s sight wasn’t some gruesome battle wound but her fucking genetics? Ambrosia and nectar couldn’t fix that. You’d think being born a demigod would make you immune to stupid incurable diseases, but apparently Clarisse’s life wasn’t bad enough already. 

“Go away,” Clarisse whispered roughly. Why was Percy still here, content to be witness to her shame?

“Do you want me to get Chris?” Percy spoke softly behind her. 

“No,” Clarisse forced out. 

“I’m not just gonna leave you here alone,” Percy said, his voice infuriatingly sensible. “You’re not spending all night stuck in the infirmary.” 

“Then take me back to the Ares cabin,” said Clarisse. She knew she was being rude, she knew she was being ungrateful, but she hadn’t wanted anyone to see her like this. Her chest felt impossibly tight. 

“It’s Summer Solstice,” Percy said. “Don’t you want to be with everyone else at the bonfire?” 

“It’s bad enough that the whole fucking camp knows about me,” said Clarisse. “I’m not going back out there just to humiliate myself.” 

So she was a coward as well.

“You could ask your cabin to help you, you know,” Percy said. 

“I’m not asking them for help,” Clarisse retorted. 

“Which is why I forced my help onto you,” Percy said wryly. 

Clarisse finally turned around to look at Percy. She could see only his face in her narrow field of vision. Percy’s eyes were sharp, cunning. But they softened as they met Clarisse’s. 

“Why don’t we just hang out or something?” Percy said. “Go back to my cabin, watch a movie.” 

“Why the fuck would I want to do that?” Clarisse said. 

“Listen,” said Percy. “if you really want to go back to the Ares cabin, I’ll take you to the Ares cabin. But you’re only here for a night. You should get to spend time with your friends like everyone else.” 

Clarisse scoffed. “What, are we friends or something?” 

“If you want,” Percy said simply. 

Clarisse scowled. “I just…” 

She dropped her eyes. Her breath shook. She hated herself. 

“I just want to cry.” 

Percy didn’t speak right away. But finally, he responded. 

“Okay.” 

Cabin Three. The Poseidon cabin. All the blinds on the windows were closed, and all the lights inside were turned on. Percy sat on the edge of his bed. Clarisse sat beside him, her head on his shoulder. 

“I mean, I’m a child of Ares,” Clarisse muttered. “I’m supposed to be ruthless, unbeatable. I’m supposed to be those things even more so than other demigods. And then this comes along. It’s cruel, it’s fucking sick. I think–” 

Clarisse paused. “I shouldn’t say it.” 

“Say it,” said Percy. Clarisse could tell by the direction of his voice that he was looking out in front of him, away from her. 

Clarisse sighed. “This is worse than death. This is torture. They say it’s supposed to get worse, little by little - at least with death it’s over.” 

“How are you supposed to bully me if you’re dead?” Percy asked, toneless, and Clarisse scoffed. She didn’t respond to him, though. 

“The person I used to be is dead, anyway,” she said finally. 

There was a knock at the door. Clarisse lifted her head from Percy’s shoulder, and Percy stood to answer it. Clarisse shrank back and felt shame all over again at her fear, but Percy didn’t open the door fully. 

“Yeah?” Percy said. The newcomer’s voice reached Clarisse’s ears. 

“...at the bonfire...disappeared...everything okay?” 

Annabeth. But Percy was speaking again. 

“I can’t right now; I’m sorry,” he said. 

“Why, what’s going on?” Annabeth asked. 

“I can’t say–” 

“It’s okay,” Clarisse relented. “She can come in.” 

“Clarisse?” Annabeth asked. 

Percy opened the door fully, revealing Annabeth bearing a plate of food. Annabeth took in Clarisse’s face. Clarisse looked like a mess, she knew. But Annabeth only smiled crookedly and came inside. Clarisse could make out what was on the plate now; Annabeth had brought  _ koptoplakous,  _ sweet pastries layered with almonds, walnuts, and honey. Clarisse scooted back to lean against the wall so that Annabeth and Percy would have room to sit. The others joined her on the bed, and Annabeth handed Clarisse the plate to hold. Annabeth snagged a pastry from it. 

“How’s college been going?” Annabeth asked. 

“Fine,” said Clarisse. “I took the spring semester off.” 

“What was your major again?” 

“Just General Studies,” Clarisse said. “I hadn’t decided yet.” 

Annabeth shrugged; Clarisse just barely spotted the motion. “I guess it’s just your freshman year.” 

“Bet you have a major picked out already.” 

Annabeth grinned lightly. “Architecture and History.” 

“You’re double-majoring?” Clarisse asked incredulously. 

Percy laughed. “Of course she is. She’s Annabeth.” 

“I might drop History,’” Annabeth mused. “The counselor said it was easier to drop a major than to add one so I just went ahead and listed it.” 

“You’re going to New Rome University, right?” Clarisse asked. 

“Yeah. Sometimes I wonder if it was the right choice,” said Annabeth. “Maybe it’s...too  _ close,  _ to all the demigod stuff. Maybe I should’ve tried normal school for once.” 

Clarisse frowned. “Pretty sure college sucks ass no matter where you go.” 

Annabeth snorted. “Maybe for a jock like you.” 

“Hey!” 

Annabeth grinned. “Eat a placenta.” 

Clarisse groaned. But she took one of the pastries and bit into it. It was sweet.

“Hey, at least you’re better than Percy,” Annabeth said. “He’s not even going to college.” 

“Ugh, maybe next year,” said Percy. “I just wanna take a break for once.” 

“I don’t think working at Camp Jupiter counts as a break,” said Annabeth. “Or, tell that to Reyna and see if she doesn’t skewer you.” 

“I’m not afraid of Reyna.” 

“Yeah you are,” said Clarisse. “Even I know to be afraid of Reyna.” 

“Percy’s a Seaweed Brain. He never knows what’s good for him.” 

“Lucky thing I have you then, huh?” 

The  _ koptoplakous  _ were nearly gone. From outside, Clarisse could very faintly hear the sounds of the rest of the camp coming back to their cabins. The sweetness from the pastries stuck in Clarisse’s throat. 

Clarisse felt utterly normal. 

“You know you’re gonna be okay, right?” Annabeth said. “You’re a stubborn motherfucker.’ 

She and Clarisse were crossing the grass to the Ares cabin. The night was thick around them. Clarisse held onto Annabeth’s elbow. 

Clarisse had never heard Annabeth swear before. She couldn’t look to see Annabeth’s expression, obviously, but Annabeth’s voice had been light, her body relaxed. 

“I am that,” Clarisse conceded quietly. 

“Step up.” 

They ascended the stairs onto the cabin porch. There was one dim lamp hanging from the awning. In its light, Clarisse noted Annabeth’s narrowed eyes and light smile. 

“Happy Solstice,” Annabeth said. 

Clarisse scoffed, but she spoke despite herself. 

“Happy Solstice.” 

**Author's Note:**

> at the risk of over-explaining, retinitis pigmentosa is a disease that affects the eyes, causing symptoms such as tunnel vision, night blindness, and poor contrast perception. Symptoms often appear in late adolescence/early adulthood.  
> andabata - apparently a blindfolded gladiator, usually criminals thrown into the arena for a laugh - but the info i found online is a bit questionable (https://www.warriorsandlegends.com/gladiators/andabatea/)  
> koptoplakous was just called straight-up “placenta” in ancient greece, good ol’ annabeth


End file.
